Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
by Tara Ink
Summary: Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Post-OotP. Full summary inside, with disclaimer.
1. Default Chapter

Default Chapter.

Disclaimer and Other Significant Information.

I, Tinks, do not claim to own _anything_ which is recognisable to the Potterverse created by the oh-so-incredible J. K. Rowling. I do also not claim to own any quotes, phrases and other such things which are recognisable to those said by other intelligent beings.

Everything subsequent to this notice is in accordance with the above.

**Full Summary: **With absolutely no correspondence from what he considers his family, the Weasley's – most notably one of his best friend's, Ron - or his other best friend Hermione Granger, or indeed anybody - save the _Daily Prophet_ - from the wizarding world since he saw them at King's Cross, Harry Potter can't wait until he starts his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Maintaining his irate demeanour, and with more uncontrolled hormones than his fifth year, it is common gossip - within my family - that his year is going to be as intense as his last. And what exactly _is_ the mystifying _Green Flame Torch_?

**Author's Ramblings:** I can't say any more or I'll spoil the whole plot!

And … _sigh_ … I know, I know, the title _Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch_ is so unbelievably cliché, however, without it I wouldn't have a plot outline – or indeed the first three chapters of this fic written down on paper.

Thank you,

Your Author,

**Tinks **

AKA Katrina.


	2. Chapter One: Tears Over Breakfast

Warning: This is _not _beta-ed _or _revised fully. My father hasn't read it yet and I am not at all pleased with the Weasley's nor Hermione's mannerism's. I will come back to it later, once I am happy with the following two chapters.

Chapter One

Tears Over Breakfast

Mr. Weasley sighed as he glanced at his in-tray – it had grown considerably large in height during the two minutes he had left the office to hand over a report on various Anti-Muggle protest items. As he settled behind his desk to start researching for a new case regarding exploding light bulbs, he grimaced when he noticed a pair of scissors viciously cutting anything within it's reach in half. 

"_Desino _scissors," he said, jabbing at the air with his wand. The scissors shuddered in midair for a moment before falling onto the desk with a small clank, muffled by the many pieces of torn parchment. He looked forlornly at the mess that had once been a five scroll long report on self-walking slippers before shaking himself thoroughly.

"You're a wizard, Weasley," he muttered, "_Resarcio_."

The parchment instantly repaired itself and he gave a satisfactory smile. He pulled a quill and a pot of ink towards him, dipped the quill – a tawny-coloured, tousled one, which looked worn from use – into the pot and paused, merely inches away from the parchment.

Deciding to write the date, he wrote, in a quick scrawl that was similar to his son's, Ronald Weasley:

_Friday, August 2nd, 1996_.

Just as he lowered his hand to dot his 'i', a paper aeroplane flapped into the small office, the customary pale violet colour a burgundy grey as it fluttered into the shadows. He could scarcely make out the _Ministry of Magic _stamped across the wing as it flew down to land neatly on his desk. 

Groaning, he picked it up and unfolded it, reading it aloud under his breath, "'Heading back. Results due today. Kingsley.' Interesting." 

He glanced at his in-tray once more, shrugged and murmured, "OWL results first."

Picking up his worn travelling cloak and swinging it around his shoulders he left the office to meet the other members of the Order of the Phoenix before returning to the Headquarters, which his family had inhabited the past year.

***

"Morning, everyone!" Mr. Weasley said, entering the basement kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place through the fireplace, with several members of the Order following him; all of them had a knowing sort of smile on their usually grim-looking faces, for work had been demanding now that it was known Lord Voldemort had returned. They all settled into the mismatched wooden stools crammed around the long wooden table as Mrs. Weasley bustled from the stove, her wand directing a large pot of porridge, which was swaying precariously behind her. 

"Good morning Arthur, dear," she said, kissing him on the cheek and waving her hand dismissively at the ladle to tell everyone they could serve themselves, "What is everybody smiling at?" 

Glancing at Hermione and Ginny - who were seated at the opposite end of the table talking to Tonks - he leaned forward slightly and whispered, "Hogwarts letters today." 

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened and she beamed at her husband before replying, "I can't wait to see what our little Ronnie gets, still can't believe he's the fourth prefect in the family!" 

"Now, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, smiling sadly, "Don't get your hopes up just yet..." 

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously over her spoon, "What do you know?" 

"I know nothing," he said, raising his hands defensively, "I am simply saying that, well, perhaps his marks might not be as high as Harry's... Harry was, after all, the first choice, but Dumbledore thought..." 

He was cut off by the roaring of the fire at the other end of the room. It glowed green for a few moments, as a rather tall man dressed in a royal blue robe stepped out and dusted himself down, before blowing out completely. 

"Hello, Headmaster," Hermione said, "nothing's happened, has it?" 

"No, no, dear child," he said, his eyes regaining the twinkle which had not been seen since the news of Lord Voldemort's return, "I merely come bearing mail."

Hermione gasped, her hand flew to her mouth and her brow furrowed in anxiety.

"Now, now, let me see," Albus Dumbledore said, looking at the names through his half-moon glasses, "Miss. Hermione Granger," he passed her letter over with a flourish, "Mr. Ronald Weasley-"

"I'll take it to him," Ginny said quickly, a smile playing on her lips, "he's asleep."

Albus nodded, handing her the letter and her own. After tearing hers open to find the usual message she left the table at a run. 

***

"HOGWARTS LETTERS!" Ginny shouted, storming into Ron's room and switching the light on. She sighed as he mumbled something incoherently and turned over in his sleep. Thinking for a moment, she jumped onto his bed and began prodding his shoulder.

"Wha'?" He asked groggily, opening a eye and blinking several times.

"Hogwarts letters," she replied.

"Ugh," he said, swatting her away, "wake me up again later."

Ginny smiled to herself before leaving and walking quietly down the stairs. She entered the kitchen to find a teary-eyed Hermione being consoled by her mother and Tonks.

"What-?" She asked, but was interrupted by the entrance of her brother, dressed in his pyjama shorts and a fading orange T-Shirt, one sock held in his hand and his hair ruffled as he had not had time to brush it. The adults laughed quietly at his appearance.

"Where's my letter?" he asked, breathing heavily. 

Ginny, still confused as to why Hermione would be crying – _surely_ she had received 'Outstanding' for all her subjects – did not answer.

"Where's my letter?" Ron repeated, his eye's narrowed.

"Huh, oh here," she said distractedly, sitting down next to her friend and listening to Tonks explain in a hushed whisper as Ron hurriedly ripped his envelope open.

"She didn't get the marks she'd been hoping for," Tonks said, "I don't think she realised an essential marking procedure."

"What procedure?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, marks are rewarded for a correct answer," Dumbledore intervened, talking loudly so everybody could hear, "however, marks are taken away for an incorrect answer. Therefore, if you gave a correct answer, but ventured further than asked of you, marks would be deducted."

"I didn't," Hermione sniffed, her bushy hair clinging to her tear-streaked cheeks, "didn't know that."

"Not many do," Mr. Weasley answered, "I'm sure it can't be so bad, what did you get?"

Hermione did not answer, she merely pushed her paper forcefully down the table, where it stopped in front of Remus Lupin.

"Ancient Runes _Outstanding_, Arithmancy _Exceeds Expectations_, Astronomy _Poor-_" he was, as well as everybody else, shocked to hear this, although Ron explained the reason for this quickly.

"That was the night McGonagall," Dumbledore coughed at this, "_Professor_ McGonagall was hit with four stupefying curses."

"Yes," Hermione said, "we still had a lot of time left and I wanted to make my star-chart neat and presentable, but well… you know."

"Care of Magical Creatures," Remus continued, "_Outstanding_, Charms _Exceeds Expectations_, Defence Against the Dark Arts _Outstanding_, Herbology _Exceeds Expectations_, History of Magic _Exceeds Expectations_, Potions _Exceeds Expectations_, Transfiguration _Exceeds Expectations_."

"That doesn't seem so bad," Emmeline Vance said, adjusting her violet robes.

"What career track are you hoping to follow?" Kingsley Shacklebot asked.

"You'll laugh," she paused to snuffle, then looked at Ron, "Or at least _he_ will."

However, Ron wasn't paying attention, he was staring at his letters in horror. Noticing everybody had their eyes on him, he hastily stuffed the sheet of parchment containing his OWL scores in his pocket.

"Er – what?" he asked.

"Hermione was just about to tell us what job she wants when she's older," his mother explained.

"Oh," he said, then grinned, "she probably wants to take over from Madam Pince."

Hermione looked highly affronted. Straightening herself, she stood, placing her hands on the table and looking Ron in the eye.

"And what if I do?" she asked, before storming off to the room which she shared with Ginny.

Ron chuckled nervously as everybody looked at him. 

"Oops?" he asked, and, noticing that his mother was about to ask for his results, he added, "Got to go!"

He had barely moved before –

"Ronald Weasley! Where are _your _ OWL results?" she all but shouted, standing with her hands on her hips and looked highly intimidating.

"Er, erm, lost?" he said, shrinking back into the shadows, "Here."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled looking piece of parchment. Molly Weasley took it and scanned the page, slowly sitting down as her stern expression turned into a disheartened one.

"Oh," she said, looking at him, "oh."

He scuffed the ground with his toe, not wanting to look her in the eye. He could already imagine the disappointed look on her face as she surveyed him.

Wordlessly, she handed the parchment to her husband, who read it quickly. The tension in the room mounted, as did the silence, if that was even possible.

"Very well," Mr. Weasley said, "I won't lie. I am disappointed in you, Ronald, but I'm sure you did your best."

Ron let out a breath he was not even aware he had been holding. 

"If Hermione - poor girl - wasn't the highest in the year, Albus," Mrs. Weasley asked, "then who was?"

Ron looked up at Dumbledore, awaiting his answer.

"Oh, you would be quite surprised, actually, Molly," he answered, "However, I am not at liberty to say."

******************************

**Author's Ramblings:** Hmm, I wonder who the top of the class is? Actually, I don't wonder, because I know… 

Desino: leave off, give over, cease, stop, end, desist. 

_Resarcio:  _to repair, mend, patch.

I know, I know! Too much dialogue! There was even more before I edited a whole chunk of it out. I've read this chapter about 30 times now.

Well, there are Hermione's OWL results. I thought ten _Outstanding's _would be _too_ cliché. I hope you find my reasoning okay, but I have taken two '_Maths Challenges_' here in the UK which is a sort of competition and if you submit an incorrect answer then points are deducted – I thought I'd add in that twist.

Don't worry, Ron's will be shown later – _if_, and _only_ if, things go to plan. Next sixth-year-to-be's results? Well that would be telling… oh okay, it's a couple of chapter's away and it's Harry's, which comes with _a **great** deal_ of justification, because they're going to be atypical without it. 

**Evie; Catgrl52; QTBrit800; hermione_123; dkg :** This was uploaded a few moments after the Deafult Chapter, however, due to… eh… complications, it didn't show up. Thank you for showing such enthusiasm though! :)****


	3. Chapter Two: Reflections of those Doomed...

Chapter Two

Reflections of those Doomed to Failure

It was almost midnight when Harry Potter looked up from the relatively large book he was reading. Marking his page with a slip of parchment torn away from the makeshift calendar he had pinned to his notice board, he sighed and rolled over on his bed. 

The isolated, depressed feeling he had endured since Sirius's death in the Department of Mysteries returned, seeping into his mind slowly like ink in water. 

Reading was his only escape, his only pleasure throughout his stay with the Dursleys. He had completed his Summer homework during his first few weeks, writing much more than the specified number of compulsory scrolls. His essays were detailed and accurate, with labelled diagrams and a bibliography to show where his information had come from.  

When he was not doing his homework he would sit, perched at the base of his bed, staring out of the window of the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive. His eyes, normally a bright, emerald green would merge into dull, lifeless olive as he rocked slowly backwards and forwards, memories of the little time he had spent with his godfather flashing through his mind. He didn't cry.

He never cried.

No, he had never cried at all. 

Not even when he was a three year-old waking from a nightmare involving a cruel, high-pitched laugh which echoed ruthlessly in his mind. He had wanted nothing more than to held, to be reminded he wasn't alone. He had gone to his aunt, the first time. He remembered it so clearly.

***

_The small child tumbled out of the cupboard under the stairs, the only possession he had called his - a soft teddy with button eyes and coffee-coloured fur – clutched tightly in his left hand, the thumb on his right wedged in his mouth. Oh, how many times Uncle Vernon had scolded the boy for sucking his thumb. Of course, Dudley was never told off for such a thing. No, for it showed Dudley was 'a healthy little tyke'. _

_Having stumbled his way into the living room, the child saw his Aunt Petunia watching an interior design programme. Vernon had not been there at the time._

***

Harry remembered feeling glad his Uncle hadn't been there, for otherwise he would have surely been punished to another week of staying locked in the cupboard. He wondered why Vernon wasn't present… Oh yes, it was an 'important business meeting'. Harry let himself watch the rest of the memory.

***

Harry had tried to reach the couch, falling over several times in the process - his Aunt had offered no help.

"Arwent Pe-toon-ya," he had said, shaking the elder woman, after having successfully climbed onto the sofa, "Arwent."

"What, boy?" she had asked harshly, without looking down at him.

"Had nas-ty dreem," he replied, seemingly not noticing the air of indifference the woman was giving him.

"Go to bed, it wasn't real," was her mechanical response, as though she had said it many times. Her eyes never left the television screen.

Harry bit down on his lip as he made to move off the settee. He stumbled slightly and turned to look once more at his Aunt.

She didn't move, though if one looked closely you could see her eyes dart sideways quickly. 

Sniffling, and wiping his nose on the sleeve of Dudley's old T-Shirt which he was wearing he slowly made his way back to the cupboard, where he would be kept awake – not from nightmares, but from questions. For, as he had just left the room, he heard Aunt Petunia utter a single word, a name.

"Lily," she had said.

Who was Lily? 

Dudley had started crying then, and she had gone upstairs to look after him. 

***

Harry had never known, not until Hagrid had taken him from the Dursleys six years ago and shown him the wizarding world - the place he thought of as home - that Lily was his mother. 

Looking back at his life, Harry realised he had never truly cried. Sure, he had a little sniffle here and there – when he was totally alone – but never cried in public. Did that make him inhumane? 

_No_, the small voice inside his head said, _you're human. You have a choice, remember?  To either kill or be killed. Surely that shows you're human?_

Harry sighed. The prophecy. The prophecy which told of his future. He thought back to when he was in the hospital wing talking to his friends. He hadn't told them of the prophecy, told him of the choice he would have to make. And, oddly enough, he found this didn't affect him at all. 

He did not feel guilty. 

He could leave them in the dark. After all, that was what they had been doing to him all summer, wasn't it?

Yes. Both of his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were obviously having a great time at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, as they had not bothered to send him one letter. Not even a hello. It was okay last year, he understood that Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had forbidden them from writing anything which could give Voldemort a clue as to their actions.

And, Harry thought furiously, what was it Mad-Eye Moody had said in King's Cross at the end of term? __

**"If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along…"**

And Lupin, too…

**"Keep in touch."**

Mrs. Weasley…

**"We'll have you away from there as soon as we can."**

Then Ron…

**"We'll see you soon, mate."**

And finally, Hermione…

**"Really soon, Harry… **we promise**."**

We promise… the words sounded strangely false in his own head. It seemed they were all wrong. Only this morning – Harry looked at the clock. 01:06. Only yesterday morning had his first Owl come – other than those delivering the Daily Prophet – from the Order, telling him to… what was it? 

He rummaged around in the top drawer of his bedside table. He hated not being able to remember something, ah, there it was. They had told him to:

'…stay only within the boundaries of Number Four, Privet Drive, for failure to do so could result in death.'

Harry was beginning to think everybody was catching on to Hermione's idea that Voldemort was sitting behind a dustbin waiting to attack him. For he was the only way he could ever possibly die.

Hadn't they, the Order, assigned somebody to watch him, just like last year? Was everybody too busy to think about he, Harry, again? That had certainly been his first thought before the letter came, and even now… What if they had forgotten about him? What if they had meant to send the letter at the start of the holidays, only for it to put aside due to an emergency? But no, that was stupid, he had read the Daily Prophet, the closest it got to mentioning the upcoming war was an article printed two week's ago publicly asking for his own O.W.L results. Unless it was something within the Order itself, but even then they would have given Harry some sort of warning, wouldn't they?

He shook his head as if to free himself of thoughts. Though he was glad for the break from thinking about Sirius, thinking too hard gave him no answers.

Merely a headache.

He couldn't sleep, so leaned over to cross off Sunday 18th August off the calendar and opened the book he had previously been reading. He had decided that studying would not only take his mind off Sirius and the guilt he felt, but it could help him win against Lord Voldemort when they would meet and do battle.

He scanned the book quietly, not being interrupted by his Aunt waking first, then her husband, nor his Cousin. He ate breakfast quickly before rushing up to finish reading, again taking a break for lunch. 

He was disrupted from his reading by the telephone ringing at three o'clock that day.   

******************************

**Author's Note: **I will be on holiday from August Sixth until August Twenty-Seventh, so I won't be able to upload anything around that time. This may well be the last chapter before I go, actually… I may be able to squeeze in Chapter Three – I'm going to have fun with it :). I promise to write lots during the three hour car journey and two/three/four whatever hour long aeroplane journey to Austria.

**Author's Ramblings: **_This was meant to be uploaded in a few days time but I got so many reviews I'm giving it to you early!_There you go, Chapter Two. I hope you liked it! Harry-angst. He's so easy to torture. 

About the flashback: I had to put something about his childhood in. 

_About Chapter Three: _We find out why Harry can't get letters. We find out who is calling Number Four, Privet Drive. We find out a bit more about a character we _really_ only know by name. 

**Question: **Shall I keep the DA? Shall I have a _Yule Ball_?

**Repliers: **Wow, I can't believe the number of reviews I got in such a short amount of time!! Thank you all for replying! I literally jumped for joy when I woke up and saw that I had over twenty new email messages! (I ran downstairs in my PJ's and with bed-head shouting that I got loads of reviews – _*cough* _ Ron in Chapter One _*cough*_

**Note to Repliers:** About the First in the Year: I haven't actually truly figured it out yet myself… I still have to find some loopholes to give h- _*cough* that character _full justification. A lot of you seem to want Harry – or think Harry – is the first in year. Neville was a good suggestion too… hmm… we'll see… 

I'm glad a lot of you liked my writing – I hope to be an Author and/or graphic designer when I grow up :) That's a big ambition but I love to write and draw… We were supposed to do a short story – one page long -on finding a secret place and mine was four pages long in small font ;)

**I'm sorry if I missed you, I don't think I missed anybody though!**

**Eowyn of Ithilien: **Thanks! Yes, I have an old school exercise book in which only a page was used, and half of it has got quotes and paragraphs from OotP to justify different people's O.W.L results, lol! 

Oh I wonder who the first in the year will be!

**Mronimusha: **Wow, I never even managed a Bronze! (My friend had plenty of fun boasting over that – I'm apparently a Hermione-clone).  I don't know why Hermione would want to take over Madam Pince either, she kind of just turned around at Ron's joke and said it. Hmm… maybe I'll have a reason by the end of this.

**Mordecai: **Wow, thanks!! I'm probably just too self-critical.

**Met19:** Another chapter coming up!

**Siriusly Obsessed: **I like the name! :) I wonder… read my note above about the first in the year thing… I'm posting :)

**The Elfin Child: **Yes, I felt that way too, I thought, what would Hermione hate to happen? And voila, lower than 'Outstanding' marks. Thank you! I've updated :)

**Caz (Anonymous)**: I'll write lots more while I'm travelling and on holiday :) Me neither, I'm already driving my family crazy about it – _"But she's taking so long!"_ – yes, the Maths Challenge sucks. Our class was made to do it. Luckily we did better in our SAT's.

**Skkatebrat: **FOL? I'm not aware of that abbreviation, care to enlighten me? No, I know there was a whole palaver about the first and second chapters… Fanfiction.net was going crazy on me. It's all sorted now.

**Lady Lightning: **Thank you!I wonder… Again, see above for information on the highest in the year.

**Mystic Queen: **Yes, she does, it wasn't my idea though, I was going to have her be a schoolbook Author or something, but as soon as Ron said that joke she had enough and decided to, _"Show him to make a fool out of me."_ I'm updating :)

**Facade: **It could be Harry, but then again, it might not. You'll find out when I post Harry's results in Chapter Four – or five, whatever way you see it really. Again, see above about the highest in the year. I've updated :) 

**Muah-Baby-Muah: **Thank you :) Oh, I'm like that permanently ;) I will check out your Fanfiction tomorrow morning – wait – this morning, when I'm awake, not at 1AM :)

**Tomcatmaster (Anonymous): **Thank you! 

**Ava: **Thank you :) Yes, I hope there weren't too many paragraphs in this chapter :S Yes, it happened to me in the Maths Challenge, I was _so _shocked when I found out wrong answers were given negative points.

**Mrs.Will-Turner: **Canadians have a CIA? Wow, you learn something new everyday. Neville? Now there's an interesting idea!

**Kayla (Anonymous): **No, I haven't posted this anywhere other than Fanfiction.net. I only wrote it a few days ago :)

**Chris (Anonymous): **Okay, okay :)

**Not What You Think: **Thank you, I thought _reparo_ was to repair as well, but I looked on an online latin-english dictionary (several, actually) and it came up with that. 

**Drew (Anonymous): **Thank you, I will keep going :)

**Lizzie (Anonymous): **Thank you very much! Well, there's Harry for you, I didn't treat him too badly, no? ;) You'll see Ron's grades a few chapters after Harry's (Harry's Chapter Four).

**Sirius-Black: **Oh my you're alive! Ah, Ron didn't do too badly, just not as good as certain others. I want to know how Mr. Arthur Weasley had a feeling of foreboding on his grades – maybe he's a Seer O.o ? I'm continuing :)

**Sam (Anonymous): **Thank you! Harry is? That'd be cool. Not too much? Good.

**Flame-the-Phoenix: **Everybody seems to think there's not too much dialogue, so I'll trust everyone's judgement. 

Yes, I wanted to have a little fun with the characters, _wind them up_ so to speak. I had a lot of fun with Harry, and I'm going to have a lot of fun in the next chapter :)

Thank you, you don't know how it aggravates me when I find two people speaking on the same line, so I try not to do it myself, too. That would be hypocritical of me.

I hope to continue until it's finished too, maybe even a seventh year sequel… and a sequel after that too – I have weddings/families/jobs planned out :) _Random Fact:_ The weddings come from dreams, as do the jobs…

Thank you!

**AUDRANIAC (Anonymous): **Lol, okay… Thank you! I'm hurrying :)

**Crater212: **Thank you!

**xMEx: **It could be Harry. I'm updating. Thank you :)

**Tara: **I'm updating :) There you go, lot's of Harry! His results will be in Chapter Four.

**HPForever: **I wrote it straight after I uploaded the First Chapter, I just wanted to give it time ;) … and revised.

**Ganymade: **Yes, poor girl, how could she have overlooked such a rule? Here's Harry :) I'm updating!

**John (Anonymous): **Thank you! Yes, I didn't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for poor Hermione. We'll see about Harry… okay, getting scared now :S I'm updating :)


	4. NEW NOTE! Oops!

Here's the Deal –

I've reorganised all my files on my PC. I've reorganised my Harry Potter story. But I'm not going to update it until December – maybe October, I have a holiday then. 

This is because I have lots to do. School starts on the 8th September, which means my only free days are Sunday – I have school on Saturday too – which will probably be spent with family/making graphics for my website.  

I have three weeks in December which will give me plenty of time to get this Story going. I'll probably write some during the time I'm away, but I won't be on Fanfiction.net until then.

I also have hobbies now *cheers*! Palmistry, Tarot Cards, Crystals… I'm turning into Lavender Brown! 

I'm taking History this year. Last year most of my homework was History. Do the math. 

To conclude, with History, Hobbies, a Social life and making a website I'm not going to have much time. Or any time, you chose. 

Feel free to email me – hotmail address on bio, please don't flame me for it though – or visit my website when it's completed!

I would have posted Chapter Three with this, but I'm waiting for emails from a few people before I can. I can give you a snippet from a later chapter though, in the hopes that you won't abandon this Fic – I love you reviewers dearly! I said I would go to every Gryffindor's summer… here is Lavender Browns.

Lavender Brown had a guilty conscience, which disturbed her to no end. No, not because she was raised to believe in innocence, never committing sins and _'all that spiritual stuff'_. No, not at all… In fact, the real reason was far from it. 

Her guilty conscience was preventing her from acquiring the little needed beauty sleep she was so insistent on getting. She laughed bitterly to herself as that reflection rebounded within the – what most people thought to be – small space which was her mind. Yes, that was a typical _Lavender Brown idea_. 

She knew what people said about her when her back was turned. The muggleborns called her _Barbie_, a term used frequently by the purebloods now, too. However, she was not troubled. 

Not by the juvenile words spoken by her classmates – she had done that herself plenty of times, the most memorable being to Parvati concerning Luna Lovegood's radish earrings.

It was her. . .

What is Lavender troubled by? Wait until December to see…

See you all in December!


End file.
